


The Question

by Mari_Writes



Series: Slowly but Surely [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi is a good friend, Boarding School, Bokuto is confused, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Coming Out, Developing Relationship, Dorms, Fluff, Insecure Bokuto Koutarou, LGBTQ Themes, Light Angst, M/M, POV Akaashi Keiji, Pining Akaashi Keiji, Pre-Relationship, Sexuality Crisis, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24854494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mari_Writes/pseuds/Mari_Writes
Summary: After months of gradually hanging out more and more outside of volleyball practice, Akaashi is finally invited to Bokuto's dorm room for an evening hangout. The night turns out a bit different than expected, and leads to major revelations for both Akaashi and the boy he’d come to care for more than any other.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: Slowly but Surely [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720297
Comments: 32
Kudos: 303





	The Question

**Author's Note:**

> The story takes place a couple of months after [The Response](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23869276). Please go read it and its predecessor, [The Assessment](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23711383) if you want some background.
> 
> Side note: Since Fukurodani is technically an academy, I assume it’s a boarding school with dorms, like Shiratorizawa. I headcanon that Bokuto and Akaashi both live at the school.
> 
> Please comment, like and tell your friends if you enjoyed this! You can also share on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mari_writes1/status/1287139099489361920) and [Tumblr](https://mari-writes.tumblr.com/post/621680933353013248/the-question). Thank you!

Akaashi could not understand why the sight of a high school student dormitory was making his heart pound.

It was just a building. A bland yet brightly-lit building that housed a bunch of students about his age. It looked identical to his own dorm nearby.

But Akaashi hesitated to enter.

He knew he was prone to overthinking, but honestly, that wasn’t the issue. His mind felt calm and collected, like it knew there was nothing to be nervous about.

It was his stupid heart that wouldn’t shut up.

 _Get it together_ , he said to it, _you see Bokuto almost every day. This is no different._

But it _was_ different. This was the first time Akaashi would ever hang out with Bokuto at his dorm. Alone. Without any of their other volleyball teammates or classmates. Even Bokuto’s roommate was gone for the weekend.

Akaashi’s heart switched up another gear.

 _Traitor_ , he cursed. _You’re my least favorite organ_.

The two of them had been hanging out a lot more outside of volleyball practice. It had started a couple months ago, right after Bokuto had completely rocked Akaashi’s world by telling him he thought he was attractive. Granted, it was just meant to “return the favor” after Akaashi had admitted the same to him, but still. It felt like things had changed between them.

Their first year as teammates had been spent mainly on the court, practicing and learning how to work together. The team had sometimes gone to the corner store, or rode the train together to inner Tokyo to shop. But everything had always been in the context of volleyball. Even Akaashi’s dedication to learning Bokuto's weaknesses was framed around the sport.

It helped him stay focused as his heart screamed at him things like _He’s so cute_ and _You like him as more than a friend_.

But now they were hanging out for no other reason than to, well, hang out. Study sessions had become a regular thing. So had one-on-one trips to the corner store, late night texting and the occasional FaceTime call if one of them went home for a weekend or holiday.

It scared Akaashi how much he liked it.

Eventually Akaashi steeled himself enough to enter the dorm and climb a flight of stairs to the second floor. He passed only one other student in the hall—a third year who looked on the brink of exhaustion carrying a tower of textbooks —before stopping in front of room 201.

_Here we go._

He knocked.

The door swung open with tremendous force.

“Akaashi! Hey!”

Akaashi’s reprimand to Bokuto that he keep his voice down died in his throat as he took in the sight of his friend standing in the doorway—shirtless, wearing only a pair of loose joggers and a thousand-watt smile.

Akaashi wondered what celestial deity he had pissed off to put him in such a position. Or maybe it was actually a gift from the gods. Cursed or blessed? He wasn’t quite sure anymore.

All he knew was that a beaming Bokuto Koutarou was standing before him in all his chiseled glory, and Akaashi couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

“Hello, Bokuto-san,” he managed to say, folding his hands behind his back so they wouldn’t reach out and do something inappropriate. “Apologies. I am a bit late.”

“It’s okay! Come in! I just got back from a shower and was getting dressed.”

The older boy turned around, granting Akaashi a spectacular view of his bare back.

“Fuck my life,” he hissed under his breath.

“What was that?” Bokuto asked as he dug through his dresser.

“Nothing.” Akaashi tore his eyes away, instead surveying his friend’s dorm. It wasn’t too different from his own, just a standard room with two beds, desks and dressers, a large closet and a stand-up lamp.

He could tell what side was Bokuto’s. Two posters, one of Brazil’s Nicholas Romero and the other of the Japanese National Team were hung over the bed on the right, which was (surprisingly) neatly made, with lots of pillows and a plush owl.

Also on the wall were a number of photographs. Akaashi was eager to examine each one in detail.

“So, I thought we could watch a movie!”

Akaashi turned to see that Bokuto had thankfully put on a long-sleeved shirt. (Exposed biceps were lethal.)

“Or we could see if my roommate left his Switch,” Bokuto continued. “He probably didn’t, though. He’s obsessed with that thing.”

“A movie sounds good.” Akaashi kicked off his slippers and removed his jacket. “Where should I…”

“Ah!” Bokuto lunged forward, grabbing the jacket and placing it on the back of his desk chair. “Go ahead, get comfy!” He motioned to the bed.

Akaashi nodded, forcing himself to remain calm as he gingerly climbed on.

 _You just had a movie night with the other second-years last week_ , he chided himself. _This is no different._

His heart laughed at him.

He took a deep breath as he positioned one of the pillows to support his back.

“Here!” A bag of chips was tossed onto Akaashi’s lap. “You like these, right?”

Akaashi looked down at the snack. Seaweed salt chips. They were his favorite.

“These are not very healthy, Bokuto-san.”

The older boy huffed.

As Bokuto fiddled with his laptop to set up the movie, Akaashi observed the photograph collage on the wall. They were mostly of the volleyball club, including an official portrait of the team and a funny shot of Komi lying on his side, held up by Onaga, Washio and Sarukui, with Konoha, Bokuto and Akaashi posing like Charlie’s Angeles in front.

Some were from the recent training camps: an obnoxious closeup of Bokuto and Kuroo where you could see up their noses; a blurry shot of Tsukishima flipping off the camera as Lev waved in the background; a precious capture of Bokuto piggy-backing a laughing Hinata.

There were also some of Bokuto and his mother. Akaashi knew they were close—the woman had raised him and his siblings singlehandedly, sometimes working two jobs to support them. Akaashi wanted to meet her.

“Here we go!”

Akaashi flinched as Bokuto leapt onto the bed, unceremoniously dumping his laptop in front of them. His weight caused the cheap dorm mattress to bounce like an inflatable raft.

“Bokuto-san, please be careful,” Akaashi sighed, saving his chips from the boy’s flailing limbs.

Bokuto snickered, crossing his legs and leaning forward to start up the movie. “Do you like Marvel?”

“It’s fine.”

Scoffing, Bokuto settled in as the opening credits of “Black Panther” came on screen. “I know you like those weird art films, Akaashi, but this is actually really good!”

Akaashi hummed. “It is. I saw it twice in the theater.”

He could almost hear Bokuto’s jaw drop. “Really?!”

“Be quiet, Bokuto-san, I’m watching a movie.”

Roughly two hours later, Akaashi’s bag of chips had been depleted. So had a bag of rice crackers, three candy bars and two Ramune sodas between them. They would probably have stomach aches very soon.

Bokuto cheered as the end credits scrolled by. “That was awesome!” He turned to Akaashi excitedly. “Let’s watch the after credits scenes!”

Akaashi smiled. “Sure.”

Bokuto turned back to the screen. During the movie he’d changed positions multiple times. Currently he was on his side, resting his chin on his hand lazily. The top of his head was dangerously close to Akaashi’s knee, strands of his soft hair occasionally brushing skin. It was torture not being able to reach out and card it through his fingers.

When the video ended Akaashi sighed, stretching his limbs before scooting off the bed. “Well,” he said, stifling a yawn. “This was fun. Thank you for inviting me, Bokuto-san.”

In a flash, Bokuto had followed him off the bed and placed himself in Akaashi’s personal bubble. “Wait! You—you’re leaving already?”

Akaashi raised his eyebrows. “Well, yes. Unless you wanted to do something else?”

Bokuto opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it and closed it again. He bit his lip, his eyes flitting around the room. There was a look in those eyes—was it panic?—that made Akaashi’s heart clench. He wondered what had made things tense so quickly.

“I thought we could hang out?” Bokuto shifted uncomfortably, still not meeting his eyes. “And maybe… talk a bit?”

“Talk.” Akaashi frowned slightly.

Bokuto nodded. “Yeah! Actually… I had a question to ask you. If that’s okay? I’ve been thinking about something lately, and it’s been confusing, and you’re the only person I could think of to ask…”

“Is this why you invited me over here, Bokuto-san? For advice?” He smirked, leaning forward to catch his friend's eye. “And here I thought I was special…”

“You _are_ special!” Bokuto cried, looking aghast that Akaashi would even joke about it. Akaashi almost laughed, but he could tell that whatever Bokuto wanted to ask was very important to him, so he held back.

“Okay, Bokuto-san. We can talk. What’s on your mind?”

Bokuto’s eyes widened. He stared at him for a few moments before nodding, stepping back and plopping himself down in his chair. Akaashi noticed how his fingers were gripping his joggers tightly.

_He’s nervous._

Cautiously, Akaashi sat back down on the bed and waited. He leaned back on his hands, feeling vestiges of warmth lingering where Bokuto had just been laying. The older boy was still hesitating, his leg bouncing out a stuttered rhythm.

_What is going on?_

The last time Bokuto had asked him something, there had been no hesitation—Bokuto had blurted it out, loud enough to reverberate through the empty volleyball gym.

So it must be something serious this time. Was he in trouble? Was someone after him? Akaashi would fight tooth and nail to keep Bokuto safe. He would defend him until his last breath…

“How did you know that you liked boys?”

It was the softest Bokuto had ever spoken—barely above a whisper—but Akaashi heard every single word as if it were being screamed into his face. His breath hitched and his heart began to gallop as Bokuto’s gaze finally snapped to his.

_Oh._

Bokuto… liked boys? Or, he thought he might? Akaashi had never dwelled on the possibility, though he always knew there was one. He hadn’t allowed himself to imagine it—beyond those involuntary dreams of his that often starred Bokuto as some sort of romantic hero...

But now that there was a possibility… a real, tangible possibility that he…

He stopped himself. _This isn’t about you or your feelings. Bokuto needs a friend. Give him what you never had._

Akaashi leaned forward, placing his hands in his lap. “Well, I was very young. Eight, I think? A classmate of mine said he thought a girl was pretty. But I realized… I thought _he_ was pretty.”

Bokuto remained silent, so Akaashi continued.

“When I was about twelve,” he said, “I sort of… kissed a male friend of mine. And I really liked it. Even though he definitely didn’t.”

He raised his gaze to Bokuto once again. The older boy was staring at him with rapt attention. A single bead of sweat was traveling down his temple. Akaashi hoped he wasn’t making Bokuto even more nervous. Was he helping him at all?

Bokuto inhaled and leaned back in his chair.

“Huh,” he said, exhaling and nodding once. He unclenched his fingers and began tapping out an uneven rhythm on his thigh. “But what if you liked girls? I mean, what if you liked girls for a long time, but then later you started thinking boys were cute too? Is that… okay?”

Akaashi nodded. “Of course it is, Bokuto-san. I won’t pretend to know everything about bisexuality, but it is very real and there are many people who identify as such.”

Bokuto cocked his head. “Bisexual. Huh. I’ve heard of that.”

Smiling, Akaashi nodded again. He was dying to ask Bokuto his own question, something like _Are you really not straight?_ or _When did you start feeling this way?_ or _Do you like someone?_

His betrayer heart took that moment to remind him: _He thinks you’re attractive. He told you, remember?_

“There’s also something called pansexuality, and many other sexualities and romantic identities out there,” Akaashi added, trying to distract himself. “You can also just be who you are, without a label, if you'd prefer.”

A small smile settled onto Bokuto’s face—uncertain, but genuine. “Okay. Cool.”

They sat in silence for a while, but it was comfortable. Akaashi could see the tension melting from Bokuto’s frame. He still looked apprehensive, though, so Akaashi did the only thing he could think of: he reached out and placed a hand over Bokuto’s forearm, squeezing it gently.

Bokuto’s eyes zoomed in on the point of contact.

“It was very brave of you to ask me these questions,” Akaashi said, using the same voice he did when consoling his friend on the volleyball court. “I hope I helped. You can always talk to me about this, or anything else, whenever you need to. I'm here for you, okay?”

A few moments passed and then Bokuto was suddenly moving into Akaashi’s bubble again, and then even further as he pulled his friend into a crushing embrace.

The wind was nearly knocked out of Akaashi, both from Bokuto’s strength and the fact they’d never hugged like this before. Bokuto touched him plenty, but it was always quick—a high five for an awesome volleyball play, a side-hug when Akaashi bought him ice cream.

This was different. They were seated thigh-to-thigh, with Bokuto’s powerful arms encircling Akaashi’s back. Their chests were pressed so firmly together that he could feel Bokuto’s heart pounding. Akaashi’s own heart, the unfaithful jerk, was bouncing out of his chest.

Tears were threatening to well up in Akaashi’s eyes, but he willed them away. Instead, he brought his own arms up and around his friend’s broad shoulders to return the gesture.

They stayed like that for a while longer before Bokuto eventually let go and scooted back. Akaashi immediately felt very cold.

“Thank you,” Bokuto breathed. “Thank you so much, Akaashi. You’re so nice. You… you really are my favorite person.”

And, well, that was it.

For once, Akaashi relented and let his stupid, deceitful heart feel what it wanted to feel.

_I love him._

He wasn’t surprised at the revelation. He had suspected it for a while, but wasn’t sure he should allow himself to admit it. Now… things felt different. They _were_ different.

“You’re welcome, Bokuto-san. And for what it’s worth… you’re my favorite person, too.”

Later that night, Akaashi found himself standing in front of Bokuto's building yet again. But this time, it was his hesitation to _leave_ that kept him rooted to the spot.

If he was braver, he might have asked the older boy if he could stay the night. Then again, it probably wasn’t the best idea. Both of them were fragile, with Bokuto having just come out and Akaashi realizing the depth of his feelings.

He looked up towards the window he knew was Bokuto’s, the silhouette of a single succulent plant on the windowsill giving it away. He saw a tall shadow pass by and couldn’t help the wistful sigh that fell from his lips.

Akaashi was no longer scared of baring his heart to the boy he’d grown so close to, the boy who had changed his life, the boy whom he loved.

Someday he would tell his best friend how he felt. And no matter how Bokuto responded, they would undoubtedly be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) You can pry the **single mother Bokuto family household** headcanon from my cold, dead hands.
> 
> 2) I know this series is turning into an ultra-slow burn, but as someone who took AGES to accept being bisexual, I know how hard it is. Let’s be patient with Bokuto, okay?
> 
> 3) The fourth and final part of this series will probably not be out until later in the year. I really want to participate in Bokuaka Week, so I will be focusing on that in the next month. Thanks for understanding!
> 
> [Tumblr](https://mari-writes.tumblr.com/post/621680933353013248/the-question)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mari_writes1/status/1287139099489361920)


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